At the end of the street profiled yesterday, Acadia Avenue, there is a road going left called Crater Lake Avenue. It is several blocks long but doesn’t go anywhere–just another dead-end street.

I actually had the occasion to meet the owner. It didn’t start out pleasantly though. She has several dogs, and one day one of them was running loose outside while I was walking my dogs. Her dog attacked Buddy and wouldn’t back off despite my yelling and kicking. She came running out and got between the two dogs and wound up getting knocked to the ground before her dog retreated. Later on, one of the security guards requested that I not walk down “her” street anymore in case the dog was out again. I responded that’s bullshit, I live here, I’ll walk where I please. The guard said, “you are just a renter and she is an owner…” WTF?

We met again a few weeks later while she was out walking. She told me it was okay to walk on her street now because she doesn’t let her dog out anymore. We chatted some and she told me she was a Filipino-American who used to live and work in Norfolk, Virginia. She’s married to a woman who works on a ship. They built the house she lives in and she stays home to take care of things. Anyway, she seems like a nice enough person and we always wave and say hello when we pass each other on the streets of Alta Vista.

As you look up Crater Lake Avenue in the above photo, you see a large building on the right. That’s the backside of the Alta Vista community center. There is no access from Crater Lake, but the buildings takes up the rest of that side of the street. The left side is like a large garden with various plants and vegetables being grown. The owner told me her spouse won’t allow her to work, so she grows these gardens as a hobby.

She has the only house on Crater Lake Avenue and it doesn’t appear she will ever have neighbors. I’m sure that’s the way they want it to stay.

The tally thus far:

2 streets

3 houses

Five straight days of heavy rain and no end in sight. The usual low-lying areas are flooded, but as far as I can tell the rivers have not overflowed their banks or the highway. Yet. A couple of friends have experienced flooding inside their houses which really sucks. Nothing to do but clean it up and wait for the next downpour I suppose.

My major inconvenience has been not being able to get out and enjoy a nice long hike. The wind and the downpours, not to mention the lightning, just take the fun out of walking. I’m actually getting pretty good at recognizing when there is a brief break in the storm on the horizon. These are usually only good for thirty minutes or so, but that’s better than nothing. Made it to Mango’s last night relatively unscathed and was able to do an Alta Vista reconnaissance this morning (see the previous post). Just now back from a brief afternoon jaunt in the neighborhood as well.

I couldn’t sit on the back patio at Mango’s last night because of the wind and the rain. The high tide the night before had also invaded the seating area there. The tide was low last night, but you could see where it had been.

I finally got around to grilling two of those big thick ribeyes I purchased earlier in the week. I need a new grill, that’s for sure. One of the burners is perpetually on low and the other looks ready to flame broil a Whopper at Burger King. Maybe it is hard to ruin good meat or maybe I just got lucky, but except for one small part that got charcoaled, they came out pretty damn close to perfect. And they tasted exquisite. I can’t remember a better-tasting home-cooked steak. At least that I prepared. They were so big I cut them in half and had a normal-sized serving. Tender and juicy and nicely medium-rare.

I chuckled to myself when my Filipina helper was enjoying a leftover portion and exclaimed how good it tasted. As I’m sure I’ve mentioned, well-done is how meat is prepared Filipino-style. As this handy chart illustrates:

Sorry I didn’t get any photos, guess I was just focused on preventing a disaster. I did have the remaining leftover piece (half of a half) for breakfast this morning.

I’ll try to do step-by-step photos when I cook the next two. Still have a couple more videos to watch first. I will not be marinating this batch! Gonna enjoy that pure prime beef flavor in all its glory!

That’s just about it from here today. I’ll leave you with some irony, or maybe it’s karma.

As this Alta Vista series continues, you’ll note that almost all the streets are named after American national parks for some reason. My understanding is this subdivision was first developed in the early 2000s.

Since the place above is occupied and the residents are employed by Alta Vista, I’m going to include it in the house count.

The best thing about Acadia Avenue is that it has almost no vehicle traffic. It is one of the streets where I walk the dogs because I can let them off their leash to run free for a bit. They like that!

So here is the cumulative countdown so far:

1 street

2 houses

Stay tuned for future installments from deep in the heart of Alta Vista.

A recent comment from reader Brian was asking some questions about the subdivision where I reside, Alta Vista. The thought occurred to me that it might be interesting (to me) to document each street and every house within the confines of my gated, but not fenced, community. I’ll do this feature periodically and keep it separate from my regular posts. That way it will be easy to avoid the subject if you have no interest. Fair enough?

I’m guessing there are somewhere between 35 and 50 houses within Alta Vista, constructed on maybe a dozen named streets. I’m going to keep a tally so I’ll know for sure. I do know there are a lot more vacant lots than houses. Also, there is something of a housing boom now with several new residences under construction. Anyway, this will provide some incentive and motivation for me to get out in the afternoons for a little exercise. Weather permitting, of course.

Stay tuned for the next installment where I will traverse the street to the left of the house above and see what there is to see.

Day three of practically non-stop rain. ‘Tis the season after all. I did manage to achieve my 20,000 step goal (around 15K) the previous two days. Today is not looking so promising.

Last night the rain was accompanied by some very strong gusty winds. Got up to pee at 3 a.m. and could barely find the toilet bowl because the power was out. Luckily, it came back on right after I woke up later in the morning. Made my coffee, sat down at my desk to check the internet, and then I did a little rock ‘n roll. Well, everything around me did, I just sat there hoping it wasn’t a landslide coming to take me away.

Speaking of landslides, I noticed on my dog walk this morning that there had been a pretty significant rockfall right up the street from me.

After we got back home there was a very loud clap of thunder directly over the house. Rattled the windows, and poor Buddy, who’d been laying by the sliding door on the balcony, practically jumped out of his skin. I tried not to laugh at him when he gave me a “WTF was that?” look.

Four of us hardy souls braved the rain, mud, and puddles, to accomplish our Friday walk. We kept it mostly flat–I said we were hardy, not stupid! We also all carried umbrellas without shame. Here is what it looked like:

And that’s pretty much how my day went.

I don’t dwell on death all that much. It’s inevitable, but my goal is to keep the grim reaper waiting as long as possible. But I recently got hit upside the head with a couple of reminders that mortality is the bane of humanity. It ain’t pretty.

Wednesday I was enjoying my adult beverages at It Doesn’t Matter and noticed a larger than usual crowd arriving. I asked Roan, my waitress, what was up and she said there was a going-away party for one of the customers starting at six. I didn’t know the guest of honor personally but had seen her a few times at the bar. An older woman, maybe early 50s, who apparently was a long-time participant in the pool league. I have a Filipina friend who knows and likes her very much–calls her mama. Roan told me “mama” was leaving the next day to stay with her daughter in Manila. She said the reason she was leaving was that she has stage 4 cancer of the liver and has no one locally to care for her. This party was mama’s last request so she could tell her friends goodbye. That sucks. I texted my friend and told her about the party and she responded she was coming right away. When she arrived she sat with mama (on her lap) and they chatted for a bit. My friend told me later that mama didn’t want to leave but had no choice in the matter. That sucks too. Dying is bad and dying alone is perhaps sadder, but in the end, we all walk through death’s door unaccompanied.

The next morning I saw a post on Facebook from a guy I know reporting that his seven-year-old son had succumbed to leukemia. Life is definitely not fair. I first met the father during the lockdown when he was managing one of the speakeasy bars I was frequenting. He later banned me from the bar for my alleged violation of the secrecy rules. His bar, his call, and I moved on with no real hard feelings. A few months ago he posted on FB seeking help finding transportation to a hospital in Olongapo for his ill son. I had my driver take them and paid for it myself. No big deal. I saw subsequent posts that revealed the diagnosis but seemed to indicate the child was holding his own. So, I was a bit surprised to learn of his passing. I sent the father a message expressing my condolences.

Again, I don’t know the dad well at all. I heard stories about him around town though. He managed various bars over the years but things didn’t usually end well because he was a heavy drinker and a mean drunk. I guess sometime back before I met him he quit the booze and found Jesus. His FB posts showed him working out at the gym, kayaking around the bay, hanging out with his kids, and offering praise to the lord. Apparently, he turned his life around and that is something to be admired.

Last night I decided to visit Dive In bar for the first time since Jessa quit. As I approached the bar, there was a guy loudly asking what music I wanted to hear. I said I didn’t care. He then asked me if I knew who he was. My eyes were still adjusting to the dark and I didn’t really recognize him at first, then I realized it was the father of the deceased child. I said, oh, hello Don. He angrily responded, “Is that all you’ve got to say to me? My son just died you know!” I said yes, I know. I’m sorry. I sent you a message earlier. Then I guess he remembered about the ride I had provided. He was still shouting but said, “you’re alright. you helped me out. Not like these other fuckers!” I was relieved when he moved over to the other side of the bar and took his seat. He continued loudly ranting and raving and making threats, occasionally pointing to me and screaming, “you’re a government official. Thanks for helping me. You’re very kind.” It made me very uncomfortable though.

The owner of Dive In came out of the back and whispered to me that Don’s son had died. So, I guess he was cutting him slack for his crazy behavior. Don even challenged the bar owner to fight, but he ignored him and went back to his hideout. I finished my beer and left.

Well, losing a child has got to be unimaginably painful. And Don had clearly fallen off the wagon. In fact, in all my years of drinking, I had never seen anyone as violently drunk as he was. Totally crazed and out of control. I hope he’s better today but I expect he is not. I guess he lost his faith when his kid died too. Jesus was not the savior Don thought he was. Sad times.

Here in the land of the living, I had a Joyful afternoon with my favorite “friend with benefits”. Took her to lunch at Sit-n-Bull where I finally got around to ordering my pulled pork sandwich. Joy had some Filipino rice concoction.

Joy is no conversationalist. She played with her phone throughout the meal. That’s okay, I didn’t have anything on my mind to talk about either. After lunch, we went to my place and Joy let her body do all the talking. That girl really loves fornication. We have that in common at least. When the act was done, she showered and dressed, I gave her some cash, and she headed on home. I then took a much-needed nap. These young women really wear me out!

After leaving Dive In and crazy Don last night, I headed over to Cheap Charlies. I stayed longer than I intended waiting for the rain to stop. It didn’t and still hasn’t. I learned two of my favorite girls had quit since my last visit because there are few customers these days and no money to be made. There was definitely a depressing vibe in the bar.

But damn it, we were alive. I don’t know what got into me, but I went into party mode. Bought lots of lady drinks and fed a crew of hungry gals. Now, when I go out on the town I always limit the cash in my wallet to 5000 pesos ($100.) and leave my debit card at home. I do this in case my wallet gets lost or stolen, and last night it saved me from going completely overboard. I had the good sense to check my tab and when I saw I’d already spent 4000 pesos I had no choice but to call it a night. Now, I almost never spend money like that in the bars, but last night was a pleasant exception. I made ten bargirls happy and had a grand time doing it.

It felt good to be alive.

The rain and flooding yesterday made hiking a no-go, so I called my driver and headed out to Harbor Point Mall in Olongapo. It had been almost a month since I ordered my new eyeglasses and the promised message telling me when they were ready had still not come. So, I pulled out my receipt to call and inquire and noticed that they had written my phone number down wrong. I guess I should have checked their work.

Anyway, once I arrived at the eyeglass shop they dug through a cabinet of unclaimed lenses and eventually found mine. They also corrected my phone information in their customer database. I can definitely see a difference with the new prescription. Even so, when I’m reading off my laptop I find I still have to close my damaged right eye or the text is too blurry to read. Looks like I’m going to have to get that cataract removed soon.

Since I was at the mall anyway, I did a quick walk around to see what was what. I was very pleasantly surprised to see the Merrell shoe store had reopened. It has been closed since the beginning of the pandemic last year. Better yet, they were having a 50% off sale. And lo and behold, they even had some size 11 in stock!

With the money I saved on shoes, I went to the office supply store and bought a new printer. I rarely use a printer these days, but when I need one, I need one that works. My passport is expiring in December and I had completed the renewal form to send to the embassy in Manila. Except I couldn’t get my relatively new HP printer to feed paper and I didn’t want to hassle with trying to find someone who could fix it.

It being Wingsday night, I popped into The Pub for my weekly fix. While I was waiting for my order, owner John Kim asked me how I liked the steaks I had purchased Tuesday. I responded that I had them marinating in the fridge. He was incredulous, “Marinating? Why? Quality beef doesn’t require marinating.” I was a little taken aback and told him I had just gotten in the habit of marinating steaks prior to grilling, and I didn’t think it would hurt anything. He just shrugged and gave me an “up to you” look. I did tell him that it was probably the thickest ribeye I ever attempted to grill. I wasn’t worried about getting mine done to the medium-rare level I prefer but wasn’t sure I could do Filipina-style well-done without crispy crittering the outside.

John responded in French. Specifically, sous vide. Turns out that’s a method of cooking I’d never even heard of, but you can prepare food at varying temperatures to get the level of the desired doneness. I might have to consider that. I told John about my Ko-Am friend Kevin who is also a foodie and speaks French. I don’t recall him using this particular method though. I also mentioned I was going to try preparing some brisket and John confirmed he has some in stock.

But enough about food. Time to shower up and go find some Joy this afternoon. Lunch and a special dessert seem to be in order.

*A Hash song sung while the culprit is drinking from his new shoes:

His feet will feel the dampness of the clean footwear he has worn

His soul will sense the shame and wish that he had not been born

All of him will suffer pain like shiggy’s sharpest thorn

This Hasher’s worn new shoes!

Glory, Glory, Ale and Lager, Glory, Glory, Ale and Lager Glory, Glory, Ale and Lager, Glory, Glory, Ale and Lager

Drink it down, down, down, down

I mentioned in an earlier post that I’m on a mission to lose 10-15 pounds. Hence my decision to switch from beer to gin during my weight loss journey. This endeavor is nothing compared to what my buddy Kevin Kim is in the midst of accomplishing–he’s already lost 46 pounds and he’s not done yet. Kevin mentioned BMI (body mass index) in his post, and so I went ahead and did the calculation for mine–27.2–firmly in the “overweight” category. Apparently, for me to be of “normal” weight I need to get down to the 140-189 pound range. That’s ridiculous. I’d look like an escapee from Auschwitz at 140. When I did my big 70-pound loss a few years ago, I couldn’t get below 195. Seems my body said, “that’s enough, damn it!”

I intend to reach my goal of under 200 pounds and we’ll see if I have the wherewithal to break the 190 barrier and be “normal”. I doubt it. I like beer and ice cream too much. I usually weigh myself every day right before my shower. The 210.3 I registered last Wednesday was the alarm warning to get my fat ass belly under control. On Thursday, prior to me making any meaningful lifestyle changes, I was at 207.9. Friday found me back up to 208.6. On Saturday I was down to 206.0, and I thought, yeah, going without beer is working! Yesterday I weighed 205.9, which is a minuscule reduction but still progress. So, this morning I didn’t have breakfast and took a sweaty walk before my weigh-in. Imagine my surprise and disappointment to be back at 207.6! I guess these daily roller-coaster fluctuations are normal, which is why it is probably preferable to do a weekly weight check as stated in fat injection procedure in Boston to better monitor progress. Don’t worry, I won’t weigh in on this topic again until I’ve attained my objective.

It’s Hash Monday and this week our On-Home venue is the Alta Vista community center. That means I was busy early this morning preparing the chili con carne y frijoles to feed the hungry Hashers after our hike.

I’ve been pushing myself to be a bit less lazy and get more steps into my daily count. That means doing an afternoon walk when I’m not on the group hikes. So yesterday I did an hour-long stroll through the neighborhood and took in the sights:

It’s been raining off and on all morning, so that may bode ill for today’s Hash trail. But we will march on, rain or shine.

I’m sixty-five years old for another month, so this medical advice really resonated with me:

I took the above photo on my way out of the neighborhood late yesterday afternoon. Not sure what it was that caught my eye, but it brought back memories of one of my favorite Joni Mitchell songs. And provided a title for this post!

I did most of my Saturday evening drinking at It Doesn’t Matter in the pleasant company of my favorite waitress, Roan. We always share some laughs, and I don’t know what goes better with a few drinks than a pretty gal sitting next to you.

I was also happy to see that Roan has really taken to vaping. She told me she is only smoking five or six cigarettes a day now, down from twenty before she got her vape setup. I hope she keeps it up, those kids need a healthy mama!

I’m still hanging out with my other new best friend too:

Stopped to smell the flowers on my morning walk. Okay, I didn’t actually smell them. But I noticed them and took a moment to snap a photo.

A little rain as I walked today but that didn’t dampen my spirits. And in writing this post just now I realized I have nothing significant to say, it’s just another day in the life. If my chosen path leads only to meaningless, I’ll be content with that. There are far worse outcomes. When I look outside I know there is no place else I’d rather be.

I did the Cheap Charlies visit for the first time in a while. Between the time I walked in the door and reached my seat, there was an ice-cold San Miguel Zero sitting on the bar waiting for me. They know me too well. But not as well as they thought they did because I ordered up a gin and soda, one shot, in a tall glass. That will be my new beverage of choice until I attain my weight loss goal. I kept the beer though and sipped on it periodically. It actually slowed me down on the gin and soda which is good–it’s a more potent drink than the beer. I may actually incorporate the single beer into my routine to help control my intake. We’ll see.

I carried my umbrella when I left the house because it looked like rain. By the time I reached Cheap Charlies I realized those weren’t clouds I was seeing. Not sure if it was some other kind of natural haze or maybe smoke. I actually checked the internet to see if one of the nearby volcanos had started erupting. No such reports, so no idea what was going on.

I had three or maybe four drinks and bought a similar number for a couple of the waitresses. Hey, they have to make a living. Alma, one of my favorites, earned a nice tip too for rubbing my back for the duration of my visit. She has a nice touch.

Once I arrived back home, I dipped into the pot roast that had been stewing all day long in the crockpot.

Speaking of something in the air, I saw smoke from a fire on the dog walk this morning.

A pleasant visit with Judy yesterday. Another fine massage that ended in my satisfaction. She is also difficult to hold a conversation with, but she loves her mountain life. Told me about selling bananas and sweet potatoes grown on her land at the fresh markets in Barretto and Subic. That makes enough to buy some food, but apparently not enough to pay the electric bill. She had told me she owed 3000 pesos and the power was scheduled to be cut off today. I was willing to pay that amount as a reward for her services. But when she showed me the bill, this month’s payment was also due so the total was almost 5000 ($100.). Hmm, that’s an expensive massage. I started to just give her the previously agreed-upon amount, but damn, I couldn’t bear the thought of her being in the dark because of my stinginess. So, I gave her the 5000 and told her part of that was an advance for services on her next visit. She agreed.

And that’s how my day went.

Hey, it is what I do. And on Wednesdays, I do it with the walking group. That makes it even more fun, especially because we go places I’d never attempt on my own. I’d actually done yesterday’s trail two or three years ago, but with my diminished mental capacity, it all looked and felt like new! I’ll tell the story in pictures a bit later in this post.

It Doesn’t Matter was my beer drinking venue yesterday evening. Had a very pleasant time with my favorite waitress, Roan. That gal can hold her own in a back and forth and we spend a lot of time laughing. I miss that in my daily life. I also brought her a gift:

There’s a young man about town working as a peanut vendor. I’m one of his regular customers (I buy nuts for the working girls). He seems to have the knack of finding me wherever I might be hanging out on any given night. Nice kid and a hard worker.

When I stepped on the scale before my shower yesterday I was not happy to see that I weighed in at 210.3. My goal is to maintain my weight under 200, so I’ve got some work to do. Then I saw this photo from yesterday’s hike and I was a little embarrassed.

So, desperate times call for desperate measures. Starting tonight, I won’t be drinking any beer. I’ll feed my alcohol addiction with gin and soda, which is practically carb-free. I’m also going to need to be more disciplined in what I eat for a while, so I’ll be trying to have the self-discipline to say no to ice cream and other empty calories. I’m going to get off my lazy ass and try to get my daily step count average back up to 20,000 again too. I hope to drop the excess poundage within a couple of months. Stay tuned!

Alright, let’s move on to yesterday’s hike then, shall we?

But before I go I’ll leave you with this Facebook memory from way back in my Itaewon days.

Or so I’m told. I don’t remember much after a certain point. Like getting home or why I woke up this morning with my head at the foot of the bed. The problem was two-fold I reckon–I started drinking at 1 p.m., and the only beer available was the full strength variety. Anyway, from what I recall it was a good party and a nice afternoon to be out on the beach. Luckily I have a few photos taken while I was still in control of my faculties.

And that seems to be the last photograph from the party on my phone. Not sure what all happened after that, but one report has me being a dick with one of the women there. Embarrassing if true, but what’s done is done. Maybe I won’t be invited back next year. Oh well.

I’m not going to live forever so I want to make every day matter. Reading this blog it might appear that I’m a failure in that regard. So, I guess I should say make every day matter to me. If I’m choosing to live a life full of mundane and meaningless routines, so be it. The point is that I’m living my life on my terms. I’ve gotten much better about not worrying about the future or dwelling on the past. One day at a time is all you can live anyway, so let it be what it is until you run out of days.

I guess Kevin Kim’s post “a meditation on death” got me thinking about life. I’m not really fearing the inevitable end of life, but I ain’t in no hurry to get there either. My big takeaway from his post was that whatever meaning you find in your life is found by living in the moment. The here and now is all we have; the hereafter is unknown and unknowable. I’m not religious so I have no expectations of heaven or anything similar. Today is what I live for.

Hash Monday once again. We’ll deal with the results of that endeavor tomorrow. Assuming there is a tomorrow for me.

Sorry, I couldn’t stop myself. You might say I’m braking bad. Alright, no more. I promise!

My instinct about not playing darts on Saturdays proved correct. I mean, I was there and participated, but I can’t remember ever playing so poorly. First out of the tourney and didn’t win a leg. Just one of those nights I guess. The birthday party and food were nice though.

I’m doing another birthday gig this afternoon. This one is on the beach and will be Filipino-style. Bubbly’s Resort is the venue. It’s right next door to Palm Tree and I’ve sat up there on the terrace watching Filipinos partying and felt envious of the good time I was witnessing. So, we’ll have a “cottage” on the beach, a videoke machine, lots of grilled meats, lots of beer, and of course, hanging out with friends on the waterside.

Other than bad puns and bad darts, nothing much else to report. I did document my morning stroll yesterday for those of you who enjoy seeing photos of the countryside and cityscape. Here we go:

Just a bit over 6K all told. You can Relive it here if you are so inclined:

That’s about all for now. Facebook did remind me that five years ago I purchased the last suit I’m ever likely to own. Tailor-made in Korea of course!

It’s been two weeks since my leg got infected.

Alright then, I’ll break this off here for now. Time to shower up and get ready to party!

I had good intentions yesterday afternoon–thought about walking out to Baloy Beach or maybe going into town for a haircut. In the end, I just said, “fuck it”, and plopped my lazy ass down on my favorite stool at Mango’s and watched the world go by.

Yeah, I’m easily entertained these days.

I did get up for a bit between beers to adjust my view of the beach.

As you can see the tide was really low which changes up the perspective. Well, all that watching time go by made me hungry so I called my waitress over and ordered some dinner.

Shortly thereafter I headed on home. Had a big bowl of rocky road ice cream and hit the hay a little before nine. That’s just how I roll these days.

Woke up to some good news:

I guess what is good for me dollar-wise means the money of hard-working Filipinos is worth less. Hey, I’m just along for the ride!

And in the category of no good deed goes unpunished, I offer you this:

A good long hike this morning, I’ll share that story tomorrow. Time for me to head out for some darts now.